Wow. We’ve actually made it to the first anniversary of our move here. I’m a few days late (the actual date was August 3rd) but I was busy preparing for my baby’s 7th birthday party (Darth Vader! Star Wars!). It feels like years since we arrived, so much has happened. I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on the past year and I can quite honestly say I’m glad it’s over. (Surprised anyone? No, I didn’t think so.)
I’m still waiting to feel settled here, though after all the uncertainty of the last year I think it’ll take a few more months to feel at home. In four weeks the kids will be in new schools where they’ll stay for six and four years, respectively, and I’m hoping they find their way quickly and happily. This year has taken a toll on all of us: I don’t like how stressed I’ve become–we’ve all become, how lonely I’ve been, or how impatient I am with everything. I’ve self-medicated my unhappiness with food and eaten my way up oh, let’s just say 10 pounds.
I have hope for the coming year, even so. It’s going to take a lot of work to make things happier here, I know, but really, it’s not a bad life. We’ve been to Paris, to Cambridge, to London multiple times, celebrated a Queen’s 60 years on the throne, we live in a 17th century barn. Simon is employed, we can afford to feed ourselves. I’m grateful for every bit of that. We knew it wouldn’t be easy, and it hasn’t been, but there have also been some very lovely times. It doesn’t yet feel like real life here–it feels more like a long sabbatical from the life we lived in Ohio. I don’t know what’s coming for us but I’m anxious to find out.
In two days time, though, I’m going home. The kids and I are off to visit family in the States for a few weeks, so I will be taking a break from here till our return. And I’m guessing our return to the UK is going to include adding some new members to our family, namely, kittens.
I’ll be back…